Reading Notes

Deep winter months are in need of a good book and a hot drink. Ahhh delightful.

Recently I dabbled in some non-fiction:

How to Change Your Mind by Michael Pollan is an excellent if somewhat controversial read. Just what are we dealing with when we poke around in our subconscious? Just because we can, should we? Although I am intensely curious about it all, I can't help but feel it's better left alone. Regular, everyday, conscious life is confusing enough, no? Still it's fascinating to read about someone else's experience, especially someone as engaging as Michael Pollan.

Books like Pollan's I get from the library as I am trying to keep my own shelves at a reasonable capacity. And unless it is a particularly noteworthy or keepsake kind of book, or a book that I pick up for a few bucks at a sale, I'd really much rather borrow it than buy it. And, besides, isn't a library visit just a lovely experience anyway? I'd say, yes. Yes it is.

 

But now I am all in with some classic, old school authors and their wonderful fiction. For these I had to rummage through my long neglected, used-book-sale-acquired TBR shelf - also an enjoyable endeavour - and came up with The Pursuit of Love by Nancy Mitford (a double bill along with Love in a Cold Climate, which I will get to soon as I so much enjoyed Pursuit ) and Glimpses of the Moon by Edith Wharton, which I am reading right now and enjoying immensely.

Introverts 101

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.

This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.
Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.
Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.
On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.
Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.
Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.
Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.
Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.
Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down. Their brains are too sensitive to the neurotransmitter called Dopamine. Introverts and Extroverts have different dominant neuro-pathways. Just look it up.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.
Introverts cannot “fix themselves” and deserve respect for their natural temperament and contributions to the human race. In fact, one study (Silverman, 1986) showed that the percentage of Introverts increases with IQ.

[source unknown. Anyone?]

Reading Notes

When it comes to parts of a book that are inconsequential to the progress of the story, I am a firm believer in skimming. Right now I am in the middle of Charlotte Bronte's Villette which I am enjoying immensely, but by golly does this author like to go off on tangents. They're tricky to spot, too, because they are usually hidden within a scene where our school teacher protagonist, Lucy, is at a museum or watching a play or even IN a play. And since she is our narrator we get detailed descriptions of not only what is going on in her life (this is perfectly good. I like Bronte's writing) but also what is going on in a painting she is gazing upon or a play she is watching or otherwise involved with (like sand in one's bathing suit, this is not so good.) Do you see how this could be a tad confusing? The reader is just getting to know all the relevant characters in the story of THIS book when all of a sudden we are introduced to an entire cast and crew of a stage production with all its pertinent story arcs and plot lines as well. I can't even tell you how long it took me to realize what was going on. Pages and pages went by before I stopped and went back to wherever it was I had *apparently* taken a wrong turn. Nothing was making sense anymore. None of these new people or scenes had anything to do with the previous hundred pages. Huh. It was no wrong turn, it was a stealthy tangent made to appear as part of the story I thought I was reading. I am half way through the book now and have noticed several of these stop-action-describe-at-length-another-story episodes and am fully prepared to skim any more that come my way. Please, authors, be brief when telling us about these diversions in your characters' lives. Your readers will thank you.

Reading Notes

Is it not lovely to have books with which one is completely enthralled? I have two on the go right now, one ebook on my phone and one physical book. I love them. The ebook, Villette, I read at 2am when I am wide awake with insomnia, all curled up under the covers traveling to a French country girl's school in 1853. Bliss. And the paper book, The Illegal, I read...whenever I have a chance during daylight hours, which isn't often, but hey. A little bit of rainy weekend or evening reading before bed works too. I've only just started this one and I can already tell it's going to be intense but hopeful.

Life Notes

From where I'm sitting, the rising sun is diffused through a gauzy layer of late autumn mist, the trees are mostly bare except for a few still lit with yellow leaves, and I'm trying for the life of me to understand why changing our clocks is even a thing. This whole practice of moving an hour hand ahead or back with the intent of 'saving time' is such a preposterous idea I can't believe it's had this kind of staying power, so much so that the duration of this absurdity was extended a few years ago. What on earth for, I have no idea. I'd like to see us leave the clocks alone and just enjoy the sunshine and daylight whenever and wherever it happens to be.

On another note, I've discovered (or rediscovered, I should say) the pleasantly cerebral website Brain Pickings as an  antidote to life's inanities. The site has been around a while so there is lots to explore, but I have included some links to get you started.

Bookpickings

Susan Sontag on Storytelling

Mary Oliver on Books

Baking Notes

Ugh. After months of hot summertime temperatures goading my sourdough microbes into extraordinary eruptions of feasting, flatulence and procreation, they have now decided that they would rather nap in the cool evenings than give lift to my carefully constructed bread dough.

To wit:

Night Before ^

Next Morning ^

See what I mean? That dough didn't rise overnight, it relaxed. I had to scoop out each floppy mass onto the counter and tighten it up again with a bit of folding, not kneading, but just folding it up on itself to wake it up. A bit of dough yoga, perhaps? The result was only so so as it was the cool temperature of the kitchen that was the real culprit. These divas precious babies needed somewhere warm, so I took them to the only source of heat presently available. 

 First on top, with an upside-down muffin tin so as not to scorch their little bottoms . . .

. . . and then proofing underneath to warm up their tops.

This nonsense went on for three hours until I figured enough was enough. Other than a slight puffing, neither the wheat nor the spelt looked particularly enthusiastic, and if I waited any longer I risked them collapsing when presented with the 450 degree oven that was awaiting them. 

So I'm not really sure if I shouldn't have given it a warming up the night before, or maybe added some more starter in the morning to give it a boost. They weren't exactly dormant, but they also weren't lively. Being in a cool environment is not the same as being in a fridge, apparently. Either way, these doughs should not look so lacklustre.

The end result?

The big holes in the wheat bread is the over-proofing, and the minimal splitting in the spelt loaf is probably the same reason. Not quite sandwich material. Croutons, anyone? 

Reading Notes

Not sure where I'm going with any of these: some of them were given to me, and one is from my own bookshelf. Being Mortal is so far winning my attention right now. It's an eye opening read for anyone facing old age either for themselves or through a parent or other loved one. What am I saying? EVERYONE will be confronted with this at some point in their lives. It's quite an important subject in a well written book by world renowned physician and author. He knows of what he speaks.

Alaska is an epically fun weekend read. The fictional story behind it is kind of dated and cheesy, but the rest is packed full of history and geology and other stuff that makes your brain expand with all the knowledge.

The Illegal is one I've not yet picked up but looks like a ripped-from-the-headlines good read.

Onward.

Reading Notes

Even though I made it over half way through Jonathan Evison's The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving, I just couldn't finish it. Ugh. It was predictable, for starters, and also just too . . . oh I don't know . . . trying too hard to be tender but 'real'? It was a forced kind of authentic. I'm usually wary of books with long convoluted titles (The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, anyone?) so Revised Fundamentals must have snuck in under my reading radar. Isn't there a writing rule somewhere that recommends using fewer words whenever possible? A less-is-more kind of thing? I think that should apply to titles as well. The books themselves might be okay, it's just this one wasn't.

Anyway, moving on.

Before Wild, Cheryl Strayed wrote a novel called Torch, an emotionally heavy book about how cancer can wreak havoc on a family. I loved Wild and knew I would be reading everything else this author writes. So here I am reading Torch and loving it so far.

Reading Notes

It snowed all day Sunday so I spent most of it here with a pot of tea and multiple copies of Tender is The Night both on my iPad and an old paperback. I like switching between the two because I'm a nerd that way and, well, as much as I've railed against reading screens it is in fact easier on my eyes. But I do love holding tatty, old dog-eared paperbacks.

The story itself, though a little strange, is a transportation into 1930's France with the kind of evocative writing I love about Fitzgerald. And who couldn't use a little literary daydreaming right about now?

Speaking of old paperbacks, look what I found while rummaging the shelves in my favourite used book store. I loved listening to David Bowie as a teen and have always kept a few of my favourite songs around to sing along with and reminisce over. It was a shock to hear that he had died last week and what better reason to break out those songs for a thorough listen? Wow, such intense emotional, angsty teen memories. It was a good time in my life, actually. I felt I had 'discovered' something fringe and it helped me evolve.
And now, thirty years later, this book...

Reading Notes

Wow! I am so tickled to hear back from many of you in the comments and email. I've been away for too long (nothing serious just...away) and hope to get back to posting a little more regularly. Blogger is acting sluggish though and I'm not sure if it's my laptop or connection or blogger itself. And then there is the kerfuffle with Shelfari merging with Goodreads, which means I don't know what regarding the 'bookshelves' on my sidebar. I am loathe to see those go as they are a visual feature of Shelfari that I loved. Ugh. Maybe it's time to investigate a new platform.

*cracking knuckles*

Ok, so, let's talk books.

I've been reading plenty but my record-keeping has been abysmal. So, a quick off-the-top-of-my-head rundown of my recently read books looks something like this...

I enjoyed them all except perhaps Death in Venice, which I found tiresome and sappy, a real disappointment after the love-in I had with Buddenbrooks and Magic Mountain.  Oh well. 

Freedom was good in the same way The Corrections was good, very character driven with a multitude of complex personalities in a thoroughly American Midwest setting. And it was interesting to read Franzen side-by-side with the Norwegian Knausgaard; both Book One  and this Book Two of Knausgaard's six-part autobiographical My Struggle series are phenomenal. I loved the writing and the immersive nature of his story in Norway and Sweden. Both he and Franzen are similarly middle-aged male authors each with their distinctly European and American perspectives on life. I like them both. Which author's book I pick up to read will depend in which continent/culture I feel like immersing myself. Aren't books great that way? 

Wanderlust is a somewhat exhausting travelogue of author Elisabeth Eaves travels as a restless young woman - the kind of woman who takes off on her own with a oneway ticket and no plan. I, on the other hand, being of a more *ahem* high maintenance delicate nature, would never have been brave enough to travel this way, so it was fun to experience it through the pages of her book without leaving the comfort of my couch and access to snacks.

The Light Between Oceans by M. L. Stedman. Wow. Thoroughly thought provoking or what? Somewhat heartbreaking but given the circumstances has an okay ending, I thought. Great discussion material. 

And then, My Life in France by Julia Child. What's not to like? The beautiful setting of France with all the delicious food that goes with it. A fun read.

Reading Notes

It's another freezing cold and grey February day here and it's Sunday which means I'll be in my reading chair until further notice. I'm hoping to finish the last hundred pages of Thomas Mann's Buddenbrooks, a book I am absolutely loving much like his Magic Mountain which pretty much floored me last year. His writing and richly layered stories remind me of Tolstoy, no gimmicky literary affectations like alternating POVs, a favourite of authors today that drives me absolutely batty, and the endless backstories they all feel we MUST have but do nothing to move a story along. No, it's just straight-up linear story-telling, although I must concede that Tolstoy has been known to take us off on tangents at times - the agricultural practices in 19th Century Russia right in the middle of Anna Karenina, and the military strategies throughout War and Peace were a bit much, but still...

Speaking of great storytelling, I've been listening to Robert Galbraith's (aka JK Rowling) The Silkworm, which is a much better experience for me than reading the print version, for some reason. As with A Casual Vacancy and The Cuckoo's Calling, JK Rowling's adult books, with the right narrator, make for some really satisfying listening experiences. Sign me up for everything with her name on it because this book nerd can't get enough.

Back in The Saddle

Travel and health issues have kept me away from my computer for too long and now it is time to reconnect. Books? Reading? Even those have had to take a back seat in the last month. Happily, though, books are patient and will wait for the conditions to be right for a good old escapist read. I might even be able to cobble together some long overdue reviews of the books read before the leaves were fully out on the trees. Can it be July already? Hard to believe but my calendar says yes.

So, to my fellow Canadians everywhere....

Reading Notes

It seems I've been on the same books for months: Run by Ann Patchett on my iPod and The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann in paperback. Admittedly I did have a couple of diversions with other books and the necessities of life in the mean time, but still. It's been ages since I started these two and I'm beginning to feel like they'll never end. Having said that, though, I'm actually quite enjoying Thomas Mann; I've never read him before and I'm finding him (at least with this book) to be a wonderful mixture of deep thought and lighthearted wit all set in the most lovely 1930s Swiss Alps hotel/spa setting. The writing, although enjoyable, is quite dense and requires a fair bit of quiet concentration. But the delight factor is right up there with Tolstoy. It's the kind of book (author?) that grows on you unawares and then, boom, you're hooked. I love that. And I love it especially since I picked three other Thomas Mann books at a charity book sale last fall without knowing a thing about him except that he was, apparently, a famous name in literature. I have a weakness for notable authors which prompts me to hoard their books. I know. I KNOW! A terrible affliction, alas.

Anywhoo. Run, not so much. Normally I like Ann Patchett, but this book? This book is taking truly forever. I've been listening to it for...decades. It never advances and never ends. I just can't. It's an okay enough story for me to see it through, which for me -who abandons books at will- is saying something. But honestly, at barely 300 pages it feels like I'm listening to a 1,000 page obituary. The story takes place in a 24 hour period but goes off on countless tangents with a narrator that is all wrong. I'm not enjoying listening to this book at all. I keep thinking this will surely be the last disk and then, no, there's still another three to go. It was okay at first, but for the love of god, WRAP IT UP ALREADY. 

What else is in my sights? Medicine Walk by Richard Wagamese. Coming out April 1st, this book looks awesome. Reading the synopsis puts me in mind of Joseph Boyden and Cormac McCarthy. Hold my calls and don't expect me to surface again until every last page is read. I'm that excited.

Okay, well. That's about it from my side of the desk. I hope everyone is well and finding some joy in their books. Read on.

Reading Notes and a Question . . .

I recently came across a battered old copy of Anna Karenina at a book sale and almost bought it just to have it and hold it and love it all over again, even though I've already read it and have a perfectly good copy of my own. Tolstoy's writing is like that. Captivating. And I'm a little bit silly about books, so. But I mustered some restraint and didn't bring it home on account of my limited shelf space and a high-minded notion of leaving it for someone else to discover. I'm not making any promises, though. If it's still there tomorrow I might just . . .

When I read Anna K last December I thought I would just get it started and then leave the bulk of it for the quiet early days of the new year. Ha! No. Once I read the first couple pages I became so engrossed I carried it with me everywhere reading while I vacuumed, wrapped presents, shopped, cooked, etc etc etc. It worked out okay that time but I wish I had been more prepared for my FEELINGS about that book. If I were a more disciplined person I'd have jolly well put the book down until such a time that I could fully appreciate its words and nuances and images. I didn't, though. And it seemed to work out okay. I'm just not a big fan of 'snack' reading, although that seems to be the only way to get books read nowadays.


So here's my question. Will War and Peace conjure the same kind of feelings? Is it as excellent and readable as Anna K? It keeps calling to me from my TBR shelf but I'm afraid to commit to something so esteemed and imposing without first clearing my calendar and taking the phone off the hook. Can one snack-read W&P? Or is it really only worth reading when one can devote an entire week (or three) to the reading of it?

Please advise.

Reading Notes

~ The heat, people. The heat. We've been melting here on the shores of Lake Ontario in spite of the breeze off the water. I'm just not as young and snappy as I used to be and the summer heat is putting me in a coma. It's cooler today, though, which is a huge relief.

~ I'm happy to report that I'm putting a dent in my TBR shelf. A couple of really good reads along with a few DNFs. Reviews coming soon.

~ I couldn't be more excited that JK Rowling has also been writing under a pseudonym, sneaky gal that she is. After loving the pants off Casual Vacancy, I will of course be adding The Cuckoo's Calling to my reading list. I already know I will love it too.

~ I woke up this morning to find one of my favourite Canadian authors, Joseph Boyden, on the front page of the newspaper with a piece he wrote about the Moose River flowing into James Bay, an area of Northern Ontario that plays a large part in his books. I couldn't be more excited to hear he has a new book coming out in the fall! He, along with JK, are authors I will clear my calendar for.

~ Speaking of clearing calendars and loving books, right now I am reading and enjoying Barbara Kingsolver's Pigs in Heaven, which is restoring my faith in a once-favorite author's work. She so disappointed me with The Lacuna, a tediously boring and overly long book, that we had to take a break from each other. I loved The Bean Trees years ago and am only just now getting around to reading the sequel. No more fast-track to the top of my reading pile for this author anymore; she'll have to get in line along with everyone else. I'm not even sure I'll bother with Flight Behavior.

~ Also, this piece is good news for book bloggers, yes?

book notes

So I was in a thrift shop the other day - impossible to pass one by without going in to look at their bookshelves - and I noticed this lovely book flung atop a pile destined for the recycle bin. What? I know! Criminal. Anyway, I quickly pointed it out to the clerk and she said I could have it as it's been on the shelf for months and they needed the space, so . . . 

It's a book about books and the passion and esteem that the author has for them. I love the feel, reading and smell of this book. It was destined to come home with me.

Reading Notes

Introducing the newest additions to my TBR shelf. Is it strange that I like to leave them out for awhile before shelving them? I like to flip through them, read a few pages, look them over and get to know them better before they disappear into my mountainous reading pile. 

I also just realized that I have quietly slipped into consuming books in every way possible. The best way, of course, is still the paper book, of which I'm currently reading Marina Endicott's Good to a Fault, and loving it. Then I have JK Rowling's Casual Vacancy on my iPod to listen to on my morning walks, also very good. And now I have James Joyce's The Dubliners as a *gasp* ebook on a borrowed iPad - for travelling purposes, you see, and late night don't-want-to-disturb-the-hub reading. Those magical back-lit 'pages' are really quite nifty. As much as ebooks have a service and a purpose, I will never give up my paper books or the library that holds them. I'm just saying.

Reading Notes

If I had the time to participate in the Dewey Read-a-Thon going on this very weekend, I'd pick these most excellent books. I'm almost finished Edward Rutherfurd's Paris. I could knock that out by lunch; Cormac McCarthy's Suttree is just because I'm in the mood for some Cormac McCarthy - it's been a while since I finished The Border Trilogy, so. And Dante's Inferno because DAN BROWN! Brain candy, I'm just saying. Dark and chewy brain candy.

Happy Weekend, everyone.

Reading Notes

Wednesdays are the best! It's the day I spend lunch combing thrift stores for used books. Bad weather be damned.

Last week I found a copy of Nabokov's Speak, Memory, which I know I'm going to love because I've already read the first twenty or so pages and his writing is just so, I don't know, lovely? poetic? glorious? Whatever. It's wonderful and I want to read all the books.

And then I found a copy of Faulkner's Sanctuary, which goes with the set I've been collecting from Vintage International already consisting of As I Lay Dying and The Sound and The Fury. I actually have yet to read any William Faulkner but I've been told he is like Cormac McCarthy, who I love tremendously. Any Faulkner people out there? I know he often does the college rounds but somehow I missed out all those years ago.

I also picked up a copy of Unbearable Lightness by Portia de Rossi, another recovery memoir I've been looking to add to my ever-growing memoir collection. I have a weakness.

I also joined Twitter whose button you will find on the side bar . . .

Reading Notes

It's no secret my favorite genre is historical fiction. What's kind of snuck up on me, though, is the number of times I've reached for foreign, i.e. translated into English, books. Who knew they could be so good?! I'd never given them much credit figuring something's always going to be lost in the translation. Still, if and when I'd come across a foreign author or title I was curious about, I'd often just grab it for a rainy-day reading whim, especially from the library or a used-book sale. It's only now, having done this for a couple of years, that I've come to realize just how excellent most of these books really are.

A quick survey of translated works on my shelf . . .

Roberto Bolano - 2666 and The Savage Detectives
Mikhail Bulgakov - The Master and Margarita
Fyodor Dostoyevski - The Idiot , Crime and Punishment, and The Brothers Karamazov
Milan Kundera - The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Sandor Marai - Embers and Casanova in Bolzano

Haruki Murakami - Kafka on the Shore and Norwegian Wood
Irene Nemirovsky - Suite Francaise and All Our Worldly Goods
Leo Tolstoy - Anna Karenina and The Death of Ivan Ilyich and Other Short Stories
Carlos Ruiz Zafon - The Shadow of the Wind, The Angel's Game, and The Prisoner of Heaven

I'm quite pleased with my discovery. But, really, most of these books have been around for some time and I feel I'm just waking up to them now. Funny how that happens.